The First Patronus
by HecateA
Summary: When the students begin reporting a strange presence around the school, Helga and Slytherin search the Highlands and find a creature neither of them could have defeated alone. Oneshot.


**Author's Note: **It took time to get this story going, but here we are now! For the purpose of this fic, please pretend that the apocrypha explanation of where Dementors come from (excellent as it may be) either doesn't exist, or it took place way earlier than announced. Cool? Cool.

**Disclaimer: **The following characters belong to J.K. Rowling, and this story derives from her original works, storylines, and world. Please do not sue me, I can barely pay tuition.

**Dedication: **For Jet, the Green Badger Queen.

**Warnings: **G-slur (used as slur), and racism. Loss of a family member.

* * *

**Wigtown Wanderers, Chaser 2**

**Prompt:** (Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures) Write about an encounter with a wild animal, beast, creature, etc.

**Additional prompts:** [Word] imitation, [Colour] lemon yellow, [Quote] "You and I, we are a moment in time, a spark in the universe that can never be duplicated."

**Word count: **2233

* * *

**The First Patronus **

_"You and I, we are a moment in time, a spark in the universe that can never be duplicated."_

\- Mary Jo Schwartz

The students had reported strange happenings in the mountains around the school for weeks now. None of them had known of anything specific, but they made strange findings during their Divination lessons, dreamed odd dreams, and reported that the animals wandering to the castle were injured and shaken and acting unusual. They brought back the strangest rumours from their trips to Hogsmeade, and a group of older students reported dropping temperatures after a Herbology excursion that had taken them off of school grounds.

Ordinarily, they would pay it no mind. They had built Hogwarts where it would be surrounded by magic—near an ancient forest chock full of life, on the edge of a lake ruled by powerful merfolk, and in one of the lushest places Helga had ever encountered in her travels. But, of course, some of Godric's lot had begun daring each other to go venture outwards and Rowena's stock was becoming curiouser and curiouser—which almost always preceded something dangerous and unfortunate, despite the best of intentions. Something had to be done, and so Salazar and Helga volunteered their services. Between their tracking abilities, her sense of botany, and his familiarity with animals and wildlife, they liked their chances of coming to the bottom of this—to quiet their chattering pupils if nothing else. Into the Highlands they went.

"Not that I'm complaining about the fresh air or the company," Salazar said as they made their way across a particularly knotted and tangled part of the underbush. "But I'm starting to wonder what it is the children saw that could leave no trace for us to find. Between the two of us, I would hope that we would have found something by now."

"I agree," Helga mused. She hiked up her skirt—a cheerful lemon yellow garment that she'd enchanted to repel any mud stains she may encounter—before jumping over a babbling brook. "But stranger creatures have existed than monsters who fail to leave footprints. Let's try to make it to the top of this mountain before turning back, if nothing else."

"Agreed," Salazar said. "Besides, Godric is covering my Transfiguration class. Believe me, I have no intention of relieving him of it."

Helga laughed and turned back. Salazar was offering her a mischievous and crooked smile. One of his eyes squinted more than the other when he did that, and Helga secretly strived for that expression. He often wore it when she laughed. Otherwise, he currently looked very different outside of the elegant and proper robes he taught in, in today's walking boots and worn trousers and practical tunic. She hadn't seen him look quite this practical and adventurous since their quartet had settled down to teach, ending their days vagabonding across the continent.

She smiled back.

"What's on your mind?" Salazar said.

"Nothing," Helga said. "I was just remembering how adventurous we used to be."

"We still are," Salazar said. "Or do you forget that concoction you made me try last night?"

"The tastes of the pear and the leek complemented each other immensely and the soup was delicious!" Helga defended. "And I meant real adventures, ones which…"

Salazar frowned as he watched her, and Helga missed a beat before realizing that as she spoke, her breath was fogging up.

He drew his wand—a finely sculpted ash object with a dark polish. She reached into the pockets of her skirt to draw her own, but it seemed to her that its yellow had… dulled. The softness of her blouse was gone, despite how recently it had been laundered. She looked around the forest and the greens seemed faded, the songbirds hushed, the brook's ministrations lulling…

"Helga," Salazar said. When she turned back to look at him, he seemed lost. Dazed…

"Salazar?" she replied. Her mouth tasted pasty. She wasn't entirely sure what was wrong with the world, but something was. Something was simultaneously sounding every alarm in her body, and slowing her down to a point of inertia.

"Do you think we made a mistake?" he asked. "Settling? Taking on this enormous responsibility, this burden, really—with no clear plan for how to keep those magical children safe once they graduate, once they return to the world of hostile and magic-fearing Muggles?"

"Why would you say that?" Helga asked. "No, we—of course we didn't make a mistake. And now isn't the time to discuss this, something's amiss in the…"

The hairs on the back of her neck stood up as she frantically tried to recall every word on this phenomenon that the children had reported. She tried to bring those memories back, but she felt as if something had gotten under her skin and was crawling there. It was difficult to focus…

"Muggles killed my sister, Helga," Salazar said quietly. "She was just a child—those students are just children… I worry about them like I should have worried about her…"

This was perhaps more frightening still. Salazar so rarely spoke of his family, of his life before they had all met.

It hit Helga that if her own world was destabilized and darkening, Salazar's must be too.

"Salazar, look at me," Helga said. "Whatever it is we came looking for, I think we found it. This isn't… this too shall pass, alright? This is from the outside. Stay with me…"

Salazar seemed to only retreat further into himself and Helga's instincts screamed to grab him and drag him down this mountain. Whatever phenomenon was happening, they could face together some other time, when he was better—something this sinister might just take the four of them. Regardless, she couldn't watch Salazar slip away from her like this, it was too frightening and she didn't like the effect it was having on him…

Still, he surprised her by being aware enough, despite the fog that seemed to have fallen over him, to raise his wand. He fired off a curse she recognized as a powerful one towards an enemy behind her. Helga spun around and it was… it was unlike anything she had ever seen.

It glided instead of walking or flying like other creatures would, and Helga struggled through the thickening fog hanging around them to decipher what it was. The closest thing she could liken it to was a wraith. It was as if a cloak had been brought to life and hung over the most skeletal frame imaginable, but at the same time Helga had never seen something so lifeless. Lifeless…

"Constanza," Slytherin whispered. "Constanza, _mi amor… Lo siento, lo siento… Siempre..." _

He slipped into Spanish and then into Parseltongue so quickly that Helga knew he was in a world of his own now—a world she couldn't save him from unless this wraith disappeared.

She turned back to the creature.

"What are you?" she asked, raising her wand. "What is it that you want?"

The creature didn't reply. It took a deep, raking breath that got under her skin and chilled her blood.

Behind her, Salazar collapsed—but Helga could only look at him for a moment before spinning back towards the creature.

Helga scrambled to keep her mind clear, but it was difficult. This… this _being_ made the air around her denser, the world she was in lesser. As it glided towards her, she was transported away from the forest. She heard voices from villages her family had only passed by, crying out their protests and screeching out "_gypsy, gypsy" _as they passed by. She saw fires set in violent rages, it was almost as if she could taste the smoke and feel it in her lungs. It was as if she would never be happy again.

No. No, that wasn't right. She had thought that before.

Yes. She remembered that. She had thought that before, and she had been wrong.

The world had crashed more than one time in her past, crumbled into a hundred pieces. Her life had ended and begun anew a thousand times. She had always worked hard, worked tirelessly, and put more kindness into the world than the hate it gave out to put the world back together when it did crack open like an egg.

She knew that—Salazar knew that too. He had, in fact, frequently been involved in patching her back up. In making the world a better place again. They had shared nights of storytelling and laughing and accusing each other of exaggeration by the fire. There were entire days they had spent pointing to objects and exchanging Romani, Spanish, and Arabic words. There were nights spent designing new wings for the castle, hours spent in comfortable silence gathered around books, teacups and meals to enjoy, spells and potions to tinker with and perfect… and there would be more. Much more.

Salazar had promised her once; when she had lost track of her family and none of her magic, not even her cards, had been able to locate them. She had feared the worst.

Looking at Salazar on the ground now, she was struck by the memory of him finding her in the forest where they'd been camping on that night. He had knelt before her, tucked the cards she had abandoned out of frustration between her hands, and said "_This too shall pass." _She had not been alone in the world, then. Keeping it whole was not her responsibility alone. His eyes had been sharp and clear then, his face handsome, his voice gentle… That moment in time, that spark, had started the long process of reigning in her pain and heartbreak. She'd wrapped it around those words like thread on a bobbin. For a second, it had protected her from the world.

Helga raised her wand.

"_Protect me," _she said, closing her eyes and channeling the memory now. She would do for Salazar what he had done for her. That spark would be theirs, not hers alone. "_I am waiting… Expecto…" _

She turned back to Salazar again.

"_Protector. Expecto patronum!" _

She staggered back at the strength of the silvery being that burst from her wand; an enormous snake that landed on the ground and uncoiled itself slowly, raising itself up, up, up—like one of the great snakes from Salazar's childhood stories. It was level with the black wraith now, hovering in place.

Helga watched it for a second as it waited, calculatingly, before it struck towards the wraith. The wraith scrambled back, and the snake struck again. This time, its sharp movements paid off and the snake —her Patronus, she supposed— seized the wraith and threw it against a tree. Before the wraith could move, the snake lunged again and bit down its powerful jaw around what Helga could only imagine was a non-being.

And then the wraith, as soundlessly as it appeared, disappeared. Evaporated like water out of a kettle, as if it had never been around. Helga looked at it, shocked and intrigued. The snake turned to look at her, holding her gaze and looking her over before disappearing in turn.

She looked down at her skirt: lemon yellow as always.

She spun back towards Salazar, who had returned to his senses once the protective barrier had appeared. He pushed himself up onto his forearms, breathing heavily—but at least he was breathing. He turned to look at her. Though his expression was mostly confused and she could see the calculations taking place behind his grey eyes, trying to string together the loose ends of what he'd just seen, he also looked… admiring.

"Helga," he said finally. "What in this world was that?"

"I think it was perhaps from another world," Helga said, coming to kneel next to him. She ran her hand over his forehead, checking for a temperature drop or a fever, and found her fingers stalling against his cheek. She sat down on the moss by him, smoothing down her skirt. When he felt sturdier he sat up, continuing to examine her.

"How did you do that?" Salazar said.

"I'm not entirely sure," Helga said. "I don't believe it's like anything I've ever cast before."

"I would agree with that," Salazar nodded. "But it pushed back that… that creature, whatever it was. We'll have to ask Rowena and Godric; perhaps they have those wraiths in their corners of the world, though something tells me we would have known."

"No," Helga mused. "I am afraid that somebody made these. By some feat of dark magic, undoubtedly… Or else magic would not have dispelled it so. These felt… new. New, but they drew on such ancient pain."

"Our pain. How did you get rid of them?" Salazar asked again. Helga clasped her hands together.

"I thought of the opposite of pain," she said looking into his eyes. "It seemed to be the thing we needed most. I'll admit, the memory wasn't as strong as the original. It was… an imitation, really. Yes, that's it—an imitation of happiness. But it did take on a life of its own, so I am thankful for that."

"It did," Salazar nodded. "And for that, and for you, I am thankful. Thankful in a way, though I know I've said this often, that I don't know how I will ever repay you for."

"I think you've already given me something far more precious than you know," Helga said softly, as she felt that spark once more.

* * *

**Stacked with: **MC4A; Shipping War; Ornate Oscillating Obelisks; Tasty Yandras; Animal Verses

**Individual Challenge(s): **Scaly Tales; Rainbow Focus; Hufflepuff MC; Slytherin MC; Founders Four (Y); Seeds; Ways to the Heart; Olden Times (Y); Old Shoes; Trope it Up B ("I'm sure that it's alright."); Themes and Things A (Love); Themes and Things B (Protection); Trope it Up C (Mutual Pining); Ethnic & Present (Y); Rian-Russo Inversion (Y); Real Family; Short Jog; Yellow Ribbon; Yellow Ribbon Redux

**Representation(s): **Dementors; exploration; invention

**Bonus challenge(s):** Ntaiv; Creature Feature; Second Verse (Machismo); Chorus (Not a Lamp);

**Tertiary bonus challenge: **Orator; Olivine

**List (Prompt): **Service Word Prompts (Guardian)

**Word Count: ***

* * *

_**Shipping Wars**_

**Ship (Team): **Helga Hufflepuff/Salazar Slytherin (Green Badger)

**List (Prompt): **Summer Big List (Rescue)

* * *

_**Summer Bingo entry information:**_

**Space Address: **1D

**Prompt: **Mountain


End file.
